


Just Sleeping

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-10
Updated: 2008-10-10
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: This is my interpretation of what happened between the end of AHBL Part one and the start of part two. it finishes with Bobby coming back with the food SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT SEEN IT





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Dean held him in his arms, one pulling him tightly to his chest the other fisting in his hair, he couldn’t see anything past the tears, couldn’t hear anything past the rushing of blood in his ears. He put his head into Sam’s shoulder and breathed in deeply inhaling the smell of Sam that was now twinged with the stench of mud, and sweat and blood, and death. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name in the distance, vaguely aware of the water seeping into his jeans and causing him to shiver. Fully aware of the fact that it was his little brother in his arms, that it was Sam’s blood covering his hands, that Sam felt like he weighed nothing at all now that he was gone. Dean pulled him back fisting his shirt to hold him up, he looked into Sam’s face, shocked slightly at how peaceful he looked considering he had just had a knife plunged into his back. He pulled him back into the embrace rocking forward and back on the cold mud whispering his name and “oh god oh god oh god” he felt a hand on his shoulder but didn’t bother looking up

 

“Sam, oh god Sam”

 

Tears fell down Dean’s face marking his brothers shoulders, thunder cracked above them making him start, Bobby kneeled down in front of Deans face

 

“Dean we need to get inside Come on”

 

He was vaguely aware of standing, of lifting Sam of entering the empty house, of placing his baby brother on the bed. Bobby was talking the whole time but Dean heard nothing, wasn’t sure he was ever going to hear anything again, wasn’t sure he was ever going to feel anything again other than the gut wrenching pain that ripped through him over and over. He heard the door close and remembered Bobby’s voice saying he’d be back with the truck, had he been crying as he said it? Dean couldn’t remember, couldn’t care less. He shrugged his jacket off but didn’t bother washing his hands, still stained, still sticky with Sam’s blood. He sat on the bed and looked at his brother, he seemed so small somehow, like a child. Dean choked and fell onto the floor, throwing up again and again until he could barely breathe, tears streaming down his face and throat burning he cried out, not caring if anyone heard him or thought he was being a girl. He stood up slowly, shaking and walked over to a chair. He found a pile of papers in the corner and cleaned the mess he had made. He dragged the chair by the bed and sat down. After what felt like hours of staring at the body of his little brother he got up and sat next to him, he ran his fingers through Sam’s hair moving it from his face, this brought on a whole new wave of tears and he let them fall, tasting salt on his lips. They fell until he physically couldn’t cry anymore. Instead he sat there, running his fingers through Sam’s hair and whispering soothing words to him, suddenly he stopped and began to laugh, realizing how fucking ridiculous it was he was soothing a dead body. Sam’s dead body.

 

‘Dean it’s not Sam anymore”

 

He turned and saw Bobby in the doorway holding a bag, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

 

“He died in my arms Bobby”

 

Bobby looked away and Dean went back to his mindless task, only now replacing soothing words with “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Bobby placed a hand on Deans shoulder

 

“This isn’t your fault Dean, you know that right?”

 

Dean didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge him. He felt Bobby leave his side only to return a few moments later with a bottle of whiskey in his hand he took Deans hand and shoved the bottle into his grip,

 

“here”

 

Dean drank some of the warm brown liquid, relishing the burn against his sensitive throat. He took another gulp and handed it back,

 

“keep it.”

 

Dean nodded at him and turned back to Sam

 

“Dean I……I’m gonna go get you some stuff. Ok?”

 

Dean nodded, never taking his eyes from Sam’s face. He heard the door shut and closed his eyes for a moment. He sighed and looked back at his brother,

 

“This fucking hurts Sammy, I’m so sorry”

 

He got up and walked around, he turned back to the bed, he sniffed and closed his eyes, when he opened them he saw a young boy on the floor at the foot of the bed. He wasn’t shocked, or afraid. He smiled down at him. The boy looked at him and went back to his drawing. He then got up and walked towards him

 

“Sam”

 

The boy looked up at him, he held a picture up and smiled, he had a tooth missing and smiled wider,

 

“I love you Dean”

 

Dean closed his eyes at the memory and when he opened them again he was alone again. He put his hands in his pockets to find his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a piece of folded yellowing paper. He unfolded it to find the picture Sam had given him all those years ago. Sam had been six, they had been in a motel for three days and Dean was going crazy. Sam had been lying on his front on the rough carpet for hours drawing random things he saw. He had pulled a fresh piece of paper out and had been concentrating so hard on it Dean was surprised he hadn’t ripped it. He remembered laughing at Sam sticking his tongue out as he colored in and drew more lines, rubbing bits out and doing them again until he was satisfied with the result. He had walked up to Dean sat at the small table and had presented him with it,

 

“I love you Dean”

 

Dean smiled at him and took the picture, Sam had drawn him as a superhero, with little Sammy as his sidekick. He picked his little brother up and put him on his lap,

 

“this is great Sammy”

 

Sam had smiled his wonky smile at him and hugged him.

 

“Love you too Sammy”

 

 

Dean looked down at the picture, Sam had no idea he had kept it for nearly 20 years. He looked down at his brother and put it back in his pocket. He lent against the wall watching him, watching over him, as he had done so many times before. He heard the door open and Bobby walk in

 

“I brought you this back”


End file.
